They are Gone….
And just like that, they are gone. Gone from my house. Gone from my arms. My nest is empty. What will I do tomorrow? Who will eat all this food I just cooked? What will the hours bring that are usually spent watching softball? No questions about homework, no checking ball game schedules, no “goodnight, I love you”.
No little girls running through the house, no giggles, no snuggles. No ponytails to tie. Thirty years of mothering. Years and years full of laughter, and hugs and dancing. A lifetime of cheerleaders, drill teams, flag lines, and homecomings. There were dresses, and makeup, updos, and nails. Proms, and rodeos and endless softball games. Needless to say, there were more shoes than I could count, and cowboy boots and broken hearts…and cookie dough. (it makes bad days better).
And now there is silence, an overwhelming silence. Like a sad sound of nothing but my own deep sighs of “what now?”
They came with no instructions
They came with no instructions, or guide books, and no google, but somehow, they survived, and so did I. In spite of those circumstances, I stand amazed at the beautiful productive women they have become. And for the most part, they are making their own way in this world and making it a better place. None the less, there is a sweet sadness in the memories of their childhoods, but joy too. Joy in the successes of their ‘adulting’.
I am learning
Mothering never really ends, it’s a heart condition that is ever-present, but even so, here I am, here & there, all over the place, trying on my new non-mothering roll. With my daily responsibilities diminished, I set about searching for a new purpose. Being more wifely to my husband? Being more who I was created to be?
I am learning. Learning that less can mean more and an empty nest doesn’t mean an empty life. I am learning that there is room and time for new adventures. And that silence is ok…silence
The phone is ringing, and with joy in my heart, I explain how to cook her favorite meal, because she misses her Momma’s cooking